


Spikes and Lovers

by Valvopus



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2009889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valvopus/pseuds/Valvopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles and one-shots from a longer piece I'm currently writing. They don't fit in the main story so they're here. Mostly Hawke/Fenris centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Touching

No touching.

  
Hawke forced herself to still in her chair and watch her hand. No one had said it since Fenris had joined the group. Not out loud anyway. For Hawke, it had become a mantra - whenever she felt the need to nudge him and draw him back into the conversation or distract him from whatever he was thinking about. He hadn’t said anything either. He didn’t have to.

The two of them had a very particular dance, Fenris moved at the same time as those around him maintaining the distance when they reached for something near him or picked up a glass. Isabela had lounged across him one evening only to end up on the floor when the elf leapt back. And so Hawke didn’t touch, even while using Varric’s lap as a pillow or prodding Aveline with her foot. Fenris was left alone.

Varric chuckled knowingly drawing her back to the present. She glanced up to see the dwarf doing his best statue-impression. He knew her hand was terrible then. A glare at Fenris. It was all his fucking fault. Varric would never have picked up on her habit of giving out hugs, prods and nudges when she had a bad hand if he hadn’t noticed its absence when it came to the elf. Hawke rolled her eyes and, after a check that Fenris wasn’t paying attention, used magic to knock Varric’s tankard over into the dwarf’s lap.

“Mature, Hawke. Your round then.”

 

* * *

 

No touching. Hawke sat on her hands and let her hair fall forwards shielding her right hiding him from her view. No touching Fenris, until he chose otherwise. It had been two months and three days since she had been named Champion and Fenris had rejected her, again. Looking back it had been foolish, but alcohol had cheered her on even while her brain screamed it was a bad move. He’d stayed, and explained but his retreat was clear. She’d been a fool to try and while he had stayed that night she had never seen a clearer retreat.

“Hawke.” Her stomach somersaulted. He was talking to her. She glanced up at him; his deep green eyes assessed her carefully.  
“It’s your move.” No, it was his move, she’d told him as much. He’d done nothing, and now jerked his head towards the table. Oh, her move in Diamondback. She glanced to the table,  
“I fold. See you both tomorrow.” An understanding nod from Varric. Hawke stood and crossed her arms, not trusting them not to reach for Fenris as she slipped past him. No touching.

She could wait.

 

* * *

 

  
No touching. Hawke peered down at her lover.

Fenris was asleep, finally, and she wouldn’t ruin that. Who knew when they would next get a chance to sleep? For now Varric stood guard with her Mabari as back up. Fenris hadn’t held her that night, no reason given. Hawke, or Evelyn as she was going by now, lowered herself back to the floor. Her eyes never left Fenris. Familiar calloused hands found her arm and tugged her gently onto him,  
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she breathed. Fenris didn’t reply, preferring to bury his face in her hair for a moment,  
“I’m glad you did.” His arms surrounded her and pulled her face to his. His soft, wicked mouth captured hers.

She replied in earnest, sliding her tongue slowly across his lips. A hand moved down from her back to pull her hips to his. Hawke grinned against Fenris’s skin; she was very glad she had woken him up.  
A cough behind them. Varric was still in the cave. Hawke chuckled and pulled away from Fenris to bury her head into his neck. No touching.

Maybe she could convince the dwarf to go for a walk.


	2. There are no puppy eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris isn't happy about Hawke having drinks with Donnic.

Varric didn’t look up as Fenris sat at the table, any glance away from the pile of cards would give Isabela a chance to cheat.

“Diamondback tonight?” Varric nodded, barely daring to blink, the elf continued, “So Hawke hasn’t arrived yet?”

Varric pointed at the main bar,

“Down there with Donnic.” A favour for Aveline, though from Hawke’s expression when he had passed earlier she was staring to regret it. He laid out his cards, another loss.

“Okay Rivani, you’ve havd enough of my money for tonight, Wicked Grace.” The pirate shrugged and passed the cards towards Fenris who shuffled slowly. Distracted. Varric traced his gaze, _ah,_ Hawke brooding again. Or plain jealousy, that could work in Hawke’s favour. He made a show of looking over at the mage awkwardly trying to make conversation with the guard.

“They’ve been there for hours, can’t imagine what they’re talking about.” The elf’s expression soured, he continued, “Oh, looks like they’re ordering more drinks. Must really be getting along.”

“Can we just play?”

 

An hour later and Fenris hadn’t yet won a hand. Any other night he would have been several sovereigns up, but his constant glancing at Hawke allowed Varric and Isabela to cheat outlandishly. He didn’t notice when Varric dealt his hand cards up, or when Isabela took two turns in a row. Varric laid down another winning hand and smiled at the glare he received,

“Broody if you want to win then stop making puppy-eyes at Hawke.”

“I’m not making puppy-eyes.”

“Huh, Rivani care to weigh in?”

“Well, Hawke seems to be heading this way so no.” Varric glanced over, the mage was indeed making her way to their table. She sat down and lowered her head into her hands,

“Maker, I thought that would never end.”

“Not your dream date then?” Hawke raised her head just enough to roll her eyes before reaching for her flask,

“Oh it was, but it's just so hard to work out who to invite to the wedding on such short notice. Bianca is going to give me away.” Varric laughed, mostly at Hawke, but Fenris’s expression was something to behold.

“No sign of Aveline yet.” Hawke leant against the wall and shook her head,

“I’m going to kill her. He thinks I like him, thought this was me sneakily getting him on a date.”

“So you weren’t on a date?” Hawke glanced to Fenris, blush creeping onto her cheeks,

“No, it was a favour for Aveline. I am going to kill her.” _Death threat eighty-four this month_ , Varric made a note quickly,

“I’m sure she has a perfectly good reason for not showing up, maybe she’s with Blondie, for some reason.” Hawke looked around the table,

“Anders didn’t show?” Varric shook his head, Hawke looked worried and glanced round to the door.

“Hawke, you invited him, you can’t physically drag him here.” Hawke raised an eyebrow at the pirate’s comment, “Well you could I suppose. Oh, and then you’d both be all hot and sweaty.”

“Killing people makes me hot and sweaty too, especially pirates.” _Eighty five_. Varric chuckled,

“As nice as this is, I have business to discuss with Hawke. Preferably alone.” He glanced over to his bed where Merrill slept happily. She had arrived before the others and managed two drinks before falling asleep.

“Perhaps you two could walk Daisy home?” Hawke looked from Isabela to Fenris, neither moved to help.

“I’ll be in the bar, somebody wants to buy me a drink.” One down, Hawke raised her eyebrows at Fenris, he glared back before standing,

“I will point the witch at the alienage. Perhaps she won’t accidentally unleash any demons over that distance.”

“That’s the spirit Sparkle, close the door on your way will you?” A curse in Arcanum followed the comment as Fenris marched a tired Merrill from Varric’s rooms. The door slammed behind them.

 

“Sparks seemed happy you weren’t on a date.” Hawke shrugged at Varric’s comment, he was just trying to distract her from the hand they were playing.

“So what’s the job?” Varric raised his bet,

“Bartrand. He’s back.”

“The others would want to know that. They could help, he’ll have guards.” Varric shook his head,

“I need to know why Hawke. You can do that for me. I don’t want him dead I want a conversation with my brother.”

“And then you kill him?” Varric nodded,

“That Hawke, is the plan.” Hawke nodded, it had been a while since she had broken into a house, well without the intention of killing everybody inside. It would be good to see if she was still up for it.

“We do this alone then. I need quiet and well, we don’t have quiet friends.” Varric chuckled, as Isabela sauntered back to the table and raised a finger to his lips,

“Tomorrow Hawke.” She nodded, Bartrand was the reason Carver was dead. Well, Bartrand and the Blight but she couldn’t kill the Blight.


End file.
